Tragedy's Gift: Surviving Cancer (3 page)

Many things were starting to change. Lisa and Ron were getting married and Mary was off at college on a basketball scholarship. It felt like life was spinning out of control, or at least out of
my
control. The town’s police department felt differently about Ron growing and maturing since he was known to get speeding tickets quite regularly. There was even a cartoon in the local paper starring Ron and the sheriff making light of their many run-ins.

By the time I was thirteen years old, family rules and traditions started to get a little more lenient than they had been before. It was no big deal if I ate dinner in front of the TV. Partly because my mom didn’t have time to make an elaborate dinner and partly because I was seventh in a line up of eight children and my parents seemed to relax a little. There wasn’t anything new that I could do or say that one of my siblings hadn’t expressed or experienced before me. We always had an ongoing debate about who had it tougher, the younger or the older kids. I think as my mom raised more and more kids, she just didn’t panic about things any more. So my being younger I had less structure, but the older kids enjoyed my parents’ excitement of first experiences. The trade off seemed even to me. All in all, each of us had a happy childhood.

By the time I reached eight or nine, my parents had already instilled a strong foundation of family unity and acceptable behavior, so I knew right from wrong. I can’t remember causing them any major grief. I could be recalling it all wrong, but I don’t think I am.

I played sports throughout junior high with the exception of eighth grade. I injured my leg and it bothered me for the entire season. I think I worried about something being very wrong with my leg at that time, but I never wanted to bother my parents with my suspicions.

Because I was a natural worrier as a child, every time I had a report due in school, I would get absolutely sick with anxiety. Then, after I handed it in and received a good grade, I promised myself I would never agonize like that again. But, sure enough, the very next time, I was sick with worry all over again. I was never able to break that pattern throughout my school age years.

As I got older, I found more things to concern myself with. For example, I would fear my friends seeing me shop at K-Mart for clothes or Payless for shoes. I didn’t think anyone else’s family had to worry about money or being “thrifty.” I was constantly thinking about what I would wear to school and if someone would notice that I had worn the same blue jeans twice in one week. To compound the issue, I also thought I was the only kid on the planet that worried about what other kids would think of me. It never crossed my mind that everyone was insecure and feared peer criticism. I prayed that no one would think I was poor.

I sometimes worried about situations that didn’t even have anything to do with me. There were nights when I would lay awake and just fret over all I heard or saw on the news that day or discussions my parents would have about finances, or about experiences my brothers or sisters were going through. I couldn’t seem to just relax and enjoy being a kid.

Another time in particular that caused me tremendous worry was my fiddle playing days. When we settled into Weiser, my mother thought fiddle lessons would encourage my love for music. Weiser was the home of the National Fiddle Festival that was held the third week of every June. Each year the town’s population would double as a result of the festival, so an obvious selection of instruments and lessons would be the fiddle. Mom bought me a new fiddle and I set out to get ready for the festival. I soon found out that I was not cut out for playing the fiddle any more than I was cut out for playing the piano. I still lacked the discipline and had no patience to play. I was a singer! I decided to quit. Then I proceeded to spend weeks worrying about the money I wasted. Finally, mom sold the fiddle and I could stop feeling guilty. She made her money back. The funny thing about that situation was that she never gave it a second thought. I was the only one losing any sleep over it.

I was very good at sports. I played football in high school and worked out with weights. A part of who I was revolved around a healthy lifestyle and a physically fit body. I found a great deal of comfort and identity in being a non- smoker & non-drinker. I worked hard at being a worthy teammate. I wanted so much to be like my older brothers Greg and Richard. They were big and strong and seemed to have the respect of their peers. Richard was so successful at wrestling that I wanted to be the same. I was so worried about what my brothers thought of me I got caught up trying to be who I thought I should be, instead of being happy with whom I wanted to be. I know they never realized just how much I wanted to impress them. Ultimately I just ended up trying too hard and looking like I just wanted their and everyone else’s attention focused on me. I assure them now that wasn’t my intention.

I also sang in the school choir and performed in churches with my family. Participating in both activities seemed like a slight contradiction for my friends and teachers, but I felt gifted in both areas and decided to be dedicated to both.

I had my first girlfriend when I was in eighth grade. My parents had a rule that we couldn’t date until we were sixteen, so it was more of a school day romance. Natalie was my first love. She was my first kiss, and my days began and ended with thoughts of her. I could not imagine anything about my life changing.

My fourteenth year could not have been more perfect. I had sports, a driver’s license, music, a girlfriend, and decent grades that kept me out of trouble and in the good graces of my parents. I loved my life, and to my surprise, Weiser, Idaho had become home to me.

It was the summer going into my sophomore year that my life was about to change one more time. The business that was so likely to kill my father back in California all of those years ago had once again reared its ugly head. The gentleman who had purchased it from dad had done a less than stellar job of managing things and stood to lose everything. Everything included the money he owed my father for the initial purchase.

Limited options had my father packing us up and going back to Sacramento once again. We actually moved back into the same house we left all those years before. My dad jumped head first into saving the failing company, and I was struggling with the devastation of leaving behind everything I loved, including Natalie.

I spent hours listening to our favorite songs, remembering all of the talks we had and the way she made me feel when we were together. I missed her so much I cried for hours knowing that I was helpless and couldn’t change anything to bring us back together. The love I felt for Natalie stayed fresh in my heart long after I left Weiser.

I started my sophomore year at Bella Vista High School. Everything was different than what I was used to. The culture shock was overwhelming. Drinking, partying, and mediocre grades were not considered the wrong things; they were now the cool things to do. Everything felt backward to me except for football. I made the team and began playing as soon as we returned to California. Football became my saving grace. It was my success on the field that made my new surroundings and adapting a little easier to handle. However, it took me months to stop feeling the pain of leaving Natalie behind.

It wasn’t long after my dad took his business back that he suffered his first heart attack. What the doctors had predicted eight years before had come to pass as a result of stress and long hours at work. It was the first time I had ever realized that my parents wouldn’t live forever. Dad needed help that surpassed what my mother could give, so we all pitched in and came to his aid. The timing worked well for me because I felt over-extended being on the school basketball team, and this was a way to bow out without hurting my teammates or ruining my relationship with the coach. I was glad to be helping my dad in any way I could. I spent my afternoons and evenings doing filing, organizing paperwork and anything else that would ease the stress for my parents. My brothers and sisters each had their part to do and did it without too much complaining or feeling put upon. It was really my mom and older siblings who stepped up and took on the heavy load in order to just keep us afloat. I was just beginning to see how strong of a woman my mother was and how she was the backbone of this family.

The Diagnosis

In the summer of 1987, I began having knee and back pain, which caused me to limp. After a visit to the doctor it was determined that I must have gotten a sports injury that was slow to heal. In my senior year I didn’t feel well enough to play football or basketball; I lost a lot of my physical strength and at that point was having a difficult time with one particular coach. I couldn’t understand why he wanted to work with kids. He didn’t seem very good at it. I was feeling weaker by the day and I had to let my dreams and plans of playing college football go. Quitting the team turned out to be a lot harder than I’d thought it would be. It was really a difficult time for me.

My buddies and I used to have this little joke; I would sing songs as I bench pressed over 200 lbs. One day we were playing around and I dropped the set on my chest. I just laughed it off so no one would know how sick I was becoming. Many visits to the doctor still concluded that I was suffering from a prolonged injury.

I met a new girl, Kasey, the summer before my senior year. It was two years since I had last seen Natalie, and I had to let my heart move on. Although I had dated other girls, Kasey and I hit it off and remained an item all year. Our first date was to the mall to go clothes shopping for school. I thought she was the most beautiful girl in California. Kasey and her family quickly became like my own family and I had a bond with them that I felt would last a lifetime. We had a wonderful teenage romance.

During that time of my senior year I regularly suffered from uncontrollable sweats and had extremely dark circles under my eyes. When Kasey and I went to my senior prom I had to use crutches so I could make it through the entire night. I was having so much trouble standing for long periods of time during choir class that I asked to be excused from the last concert of the year. My director assumed I was having a bad attitude and warned me if I didn’t show up for the concert I would fail the class. I nearly collapsed that night and still no one could provide any answers.

So many times my friends took offense because they couldn’t understand why I chose to stay home on the weekend when they were all going out to have fun. It was hard to imagine that I could feel sick all the time or be in pain and never have an explanation for it. They took it as a sign that I would rather be alone, but nothing could have been further from the truth. I loved being a teenager and wanted to experience all the excitement life had to offer.

One day when we were hanging out, some of my buddies and I made a movie about my health dilemma. I took my friend’s video camera and we did a spoof about me being in a hospital bed dying from a mysterious leg injury. I had tubes and IV’s hanging from every part of my body. It was funny at the time because I was always telling my pals not to bump into me or to be careful of my leg if we were horsing around. This unexplained injury became a joke to us.

As my senior year progressed, so did my mystery ailment. It took all of the power I could muster up to limp my way through my graduation ceremony. I had been feeling sick and was in pain for almost three years and felt so helpless because not one doctor could find anything wrong with me. The outward physical signs of weakness and weight loss didn’t seem to cause any curiosity to the medical world. I was frustrated and my family felt vulnerable.

After graduation, I heard about an audition for Music Circus, a summer stock group that allowed amateurs an opportunity to work with professional actors and singers who were between paying jobs. I desperately wanted to be a part of that show. They performed different shows every week. The first was going to be South Pacific. I hoped that my years of singing in the choir and at church with my family would be enough experience to get me through the auditions. I knew that if I got the chance, I had what it would take to be a performer.

I was sick the day of the open auditions with all the actors, dancers and singers together in a cattle call. I did, however, have the opportunity to do a private audition a few days later. I really wanted to be a part of this group because it would allow me to get closer to my dreams of being a singer, and would also be worth a few college credits through an extension program I enrolled in.

I was very nervous, which seemed to be to the delight of the director. One line into my song he stopped me to give direction. The next time I got through two lines and he stopped me again. I never did finish the song. Feeling defeated, I went home to wait. I never expected to hear from those people again.